I love you, Im sorry.

[somber plank]

It's a little scary actually; don't lose your identity and individuality!

Those are worth way more than love for say. I feel miserable for you

[merry yarrow]

its less about individuality and more about the alien feeling without her, since im so used to being with her and loving her(and therefore the things she loves)

[smoky spruce]

what was the poem? i want to see it.

[somber plank]

Which in turn takes the individuality away. A poem can be interpreted in lots of ways, but reading it made me certain that you didn't wanted to communicate that part. Like love her — her mind and only that; not the body neither stuff that she loves. It's a philosophy thing but like she altho may consist of her mind and body; one can't have full control over the body (like how they look or smell). For the mind — they can because I hope it's the dominating part. So it doesn't make sense to love her stuff just loving her mind alone works as it promotes platonic relationships

[devout kelp]

Wonderful! @somber plank has just pregressed to level 5!

[merry yarrow]

Before her, my favorite color was pink
I liked the way it was soft and soothing
Not too bright, but still feminine
You'd never have guessed it, but all the same,
It made me feel loved

Now though,
After everything we've been through
My favorite color is orange-
Her favorite color-
My favorite color is the color of her favorite flowers
The shade of her favorite hoodie-
I think i should return it tomorrow-

My favorite color, is the color of her eyes
The caramel color of her skin,
Pink doesn't feel as loving anymore
It feels plain
Not as exhilarating as the rush of splotchy color,
As the flowers decorating every painting she gave me

Before her, my favorite flowers were sunflowers
A close match with angel trumpets
-A staple in my childhood-
Hiding in the large bush, of leaves and pink petals
Pretending it was a forest, and i the explorer

Now though, my favorite flowers are marigolds-
Her favorite-
My favorite flowers are the ones i decided to plant for her
Intending to keep us lasting until they grew
Until they blossomed and i would be able to give them to her

What am i supposed to do now
I don't know my favorite color now
I couldn't tell you my favorite flower
I ruined things with her, i know i did
It doesn't feel right to hold onto the things she holds dearest
It feels selfish
To steal from her the little things she cherished
The things she loved
I want to give them back to her
I want myself back
The way i was before her

I want my sunflowers back,
without the reminder of her smile when i began to rant
I want to listen to music again,
Without hearing bits and pieces of her in every song
I want to dream again,
without seeing her every night
I want to find the same comfort i did in my favorite colors
My favorite flowers
I want to have a favorite that isn't her
I want a favorite that isn't a constant reminder
of what i've done, and of what i've lost

[somber plank]

I mean go ahead and edit the post instead i guess

[merry yarrow]

oh i couldnt find out how

so i just replied with it

that was not meant to be a reply to that